


Legacy

by NonbinaryErrol



Category: The Ascendance Trilogy - Jennifer A. Nielsen
Genre: Cat Man Conner, Grieving, Just Add Kittens, Light Angst, Loyal Mott, Old man Bevin does not, Post-Canon, Tiny girl Bevin belongs to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonbinaryErrol/pseuds/NonbinaryErrol
Summary: Mott's daughter finds kittens.





	Legacy

“Bevin?” Mott called, searching through the manor. He had wanted to show his daughter Farthenwood, tell her some of the stories he had about it while retrieving what little things were left of his old life. “Bevin!”

He frowned for a moment, once again checking a bedroom. He listened in case she was within the walls. This time, he heard soft giggles coming from a parlor, followed by soft mews. He paused and hurried in the direction.

Stepping into the room, he saw his daughter with her skirt gathered up in a makeshift basket and grinning down at what she held in it. 

“Dad look! Aren’t they so cute?”

Mott stepped closer to see the six wriggling kittens, each small enough to fit in his hand. His expression softened. 

He thought to the many cats Conner had had before, studying these little ones he figured they were the kittens of one of them.

“They are,” he agreed, stepping over to put his hand on her shoulder. He watched them for a moment before looking down at her again. “Where did you find them?”

“Over there.” She turned to point to the hidden door in the wall that was open. Mott went to peek in, looking around. Though he stopped as he saw, barely in the light, a small bundle of fur. Mott felt his lips curl up in a wry smile. How fitting that there were orphan kittens within Farthenwood’s walls. 

He sighed and turned to look back at Bevin, who had sat down with them still gathered in her lap and was cuddling one. It was small and gray, mewling and pressing a paw to her face as she kissed its tiny head.

Mott watched them for a moment, crossing his arms. This scene felt too familiar. He thought to her namesake, when he had brought home a tiny kitten and they’d nursed him while hiding him from his father. 

How fat that cat had grown while living on scraps off Conner’s plate. He sighed and stepped over and crouched next to Bevin, going to gently pet the tiny kitten.

“Can we take them back home? We can’t just leave them here,” she said, turning wide brown eyes to her father pleadingly. Mott sighed.

“Of course,” he said, brushing curls from her face. “They’ll need names.”

She nodded and looked at the ones. Two were named for plants, one for her favorite pastry, and two more for her aunts. She handed the the gray one she had been holding to Mott, insisting that he named him.

Mott looked down at the kitten’s wide amber eyes, smiling at a paw swatted at him and he was mewed at. He sighed and cradled the ball off fluff to his chest. 

“Patriot,” he said softly. “It simply… fits.”

It was quiet for a long moment, Mott lost in his thoughts, and then he turned to tell Bevin to gather her things. She sighed dramatically, another thing that reminded him of his old friend, and left the cats where they were to get them. Of course she made sure to inform them she would only be a second. 

Mott looked down at the mewling balls of fur as they crawled over each other. He nudged one back to their siblings, keeping them together. He didn’t want to lose them.

It was a strange thing to reminisce about, he thought. He hadn’t much enjoyed the cats living there. But it had kept thing interesting. And Conner happy. The happiest he would ever see him was when one of them would curl in his lap.

There were cats at the castle and Mott always left milk out for them. It had nothing to do with Conner, he told himself. He never thought of him when he saw their tiny faces, when they pawed at him for attention, when the soft weight of them rested on his legs at night. 

Such a cruel thing to associate someone long gone with something that was so frequently around.

He shook those thoughts from his head and pet Patriot’s head, smiling at the soft purring.

Conner hadn’t had much of a family leaving the world. No children or spouses. But he still had a legacy. Mott had made sure of that.


End file.
